


Sick Baby

by multifandomcircusfreak



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fitz get sick and is super whiny about it, sick!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-14
Updated: 2015-03-14
Packaged: 2018-03-17 18:08:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3539039
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/multifandomcircusfreak/pseuds/multifandomcircusfreak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For a twenty year old man, Leo Fitz was exceptionally great at complaining when he was sick, but Jemma stayed to take care of him anyway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sick Baby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [full_time_dreamer_behold](https://archiveofourown.org/users/full_time_dreamer_behold/gifts).



> Inspired by my friend Clo, who happened to be sick when this was written. By that, I mean I wrote this for her because she was sick.

“I’m dying,” Fitz wheezed. “I see the metaphorical light.”

“For someone so deathly sick, you sure do complain a lot,” Simmons teased, exiting the kitchen and sitting on the floor beside the couch he was spread out on. She gently fixed the blanket that was now hanging over the edge.

“Haha,” Fitz retorted dryly. He coughed several times before continuing. “When I die from this, you will regret all the times you ever were mean to me and teased me. Maybe I’ll tell my mum not to invite you to the funeral. Or worse, I’ll tell her to let you come and then as they lower my deformed body into a coffin your thoughts will be-” he started to perform his horrible, high pitched impression of her. “- _I regret all the times I ever teased you, because you were such an amazing friend and I’ll never meet someone like you again, and I will forever be plagued by the thought of me belittling the illness that would eventually kill you._ ”

“If you can talk so much, I find it hard to believe that your suffering is that awful.”

He glared at her with as much energy as he could manage - which was generally not a lot. “Well, how come _you_ never get sick?” he demanded bitterly.

Despite herself, Simmons laughed. “I _do_ get sick,” she informed him. “I just don’t whine about it nearly as much as you do.”

Fitz opened his mouth as if to say something - probably to complain - but instead he broke down into another coughing fit. He raised his arm like a Shakespeare character and exclaimed dramatically between wheezes “Run, Simmons! Save yourself from whatever mysterious alien disease I’ve contracted! Go on without me!”

He dropped his hand so that it was hanging over the couch, and touching the floor, the other one was lying so that it was covering his eyes. Fitz let out a moan that was much more suitable for a more fatal and uncomfortable disease. Not the common flu.

Simmons rolled her eyes at him. “Honestly, Fitz, you are twenty years old. Not five. Can you please act a bit like your age?”

He just groaned in response.

A small ding came from the direction of the kitchen, and Simmons moved to stand up at the sound. “Your soup’s ready,” she commented.

He uncovered his eyes to peer up at his best friend. “What about the animal-shaped chicken nuggets?”

She smiled. “Those too.”

He smiled for the first time that day. “You’re a good friend, Simmons,” he murmured.

She walked off to the kitchen, grinning. “I know.”


End file.
